Falling For My Fake Fiancee

The Gala Test

Harper

The invitation arrived in a glossy envelope that practically screamed luxury: the annual Cole Foundation Gala. Alexander’s name on the front always made my chest flutter, but today, my nerves weren’t about him—they were about Vivienne.

I could practically feel her presence already, even before arriving. She had a knack for timing her appearances perfectly, for making herself unavoidable in the most public, unavoidable way.

I adjusted my dress in the mirror, trying to make it look effortless. My phone buzzed with a text from Lila:

Lila: Look, this is your moment. Don’t just survive—thrive. You’ve got brains, charm, and Alexander notices EVERYTHING.

I exhaled and smiled faintly. Lila always knew how to boost my confidence when it teetered on the edge of panic.

Arriving at the gala, I was hit immediately by the warmth of chandeliers, the hum of conversation, and the subtle tension radiating from Alexander beside me. He looked impossibly elegant, his tailored suit fitting perfectly, his hair immaculate, eyes scanning the room with that calculated, commanding presence I had come to recognize—and secretly crave.

I caught a glimpse of Vivienne almost immediately. She was standing near the entrance, wearing a floor-length emerald gown that turned heads, but I refused to let her intimidate me. She glanced at me briefly, her smile tight, calculating, and I knew she was sizing me up, assessing my every move.

Alexander’s hand brushed mine subtly, grounding me. “Stay close,” he murmured, his voice low, enough only for me. “And don’t let her get to you.”

I nodded, pretending nonchalance, though my pulse was racing.

The gala unfolded like a dance of subtle power plays. Vivienne circulated gracefully, engaging donors and socialites, her words carefully chosen to draw attention and curiosity. She asked questions pointed enough to make me nervous—but I didn’t falter.

At one point, she approached Alexander while I was on the other side of the room, smiling in that polished, infuriating way. “Alexander, darling, it’s been far too long. And you look… remarkable,” she said, voice light but laced with possessiveness.

Alexander’s response was minimal, polite. I could see the tension in his jaw, the brief flicker of irritation in his eyes—but no overt reaction, no public acknowledgment. That subtle control of the room was part of what made him Alexander Cole.

I took a slow breath, reminding myself: I didn’t need to compete with her. My strength was my composure, my intelligence, and the fact that I wasn’t trying to claim Alexander for myself publicly. He was already noticing me, quietly, in ways that mattered.

Later, I found a quiet corner near the balcony, escaping the press and social scrutiny. The city lights stretched endlessly, sparkling like distant stars. My phone buzzed again—Lila checking in, as usual.

Lila: You’re doing amazing. That woman doesn’t even know what’s coming. Trust yourself.

I smiled, leaning against the railing. Then I felt a familiar warmth behind me. Alexander had joined me silently, his presence close, commanding, comforting.

“You handled yourself tonight,” he said softly, brushing a hand against my shoulder. “Vivienne’s interference doesn’t phase you.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. “I… I try not to let her,” I admitted, my voice quiet. “It’s… exhausting sometimes, though.”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill through me. “I know. And I’m impressed by you. By how you manage everything—her, the press, the events… and still maintain yourself.”

My chest tightened at his words. I wanted to tell him how much I appreciated his quiet support, but the fake engagement meant I couldn’t voice my real feelings. Not yet.

Alexander leaned closer, and I could feel the faint brush of his hand near mine. “You’re… remarkable,” he murmured, his tone intimate. Just a whisper, meant only for me.

For a moment, the city, the gala, Vivienne—all of it—faded. It was just us, suspended in a charged, quiet bubble that neither of us could quite escape. My pulse raced, and I realized again how much I wanted him, how much danger there was in wanting him this way.

Vivienne’s voice broke the spell. She had approached the balcony, leaning casually against the railing a few meters away, glancing at me with a sharp, calculating look. “Quite the evening, isn’t it?” she said, her tone light but her eyes cold.

I kept my composure, forcing a polite smile. “It’s beautiful,” I said. “The foundation does incredible work.”

She smirked, as if my calmness amused her. “Yes. And I hear you’re close to Alexander now. That must be… exciting.”

I swallowed, holding my ground. “We’re here to support the foundation,” I said evenly. “Not for personal reasons.”

Vivienne’s smirk didn’t falter, but she didn’t push further. She clearly realized that I wouldn’t take the bait in front of witnesses—and that my relationship with Alexander, whatever it was in private, was going to be hard to manipulate publicly.

After the gala, Alexander and I walked back to his penthouse in near silence. The city lights flickered across his perfectly tailored suit, the faint brush of his hand occasionally near mine sending little jolts through my body.

“You handled tonight brilliantly,” he said quietly, once we were alone in the elevator. “Vivienne… she’s relentless, but you’re… steady. I admire that.”

I met his gaze, feeling heat rise to my cheeks. “I’ve had good teachers,” I murmured, teasing lightly.

He smirked faintly. “Maybe. Or maybe… you’re just naturally remarkable.”

The elevator doors opened, and the penthouse felt like a sanctuary. I realized that while Vivienne was a threat in public, in private, I had Alexander’s quiet trust, his subtle protection, and an intensity in his eyes that left me breathless.

Tonight was another test, another challenge. But as I closed the door behind us, I realized: I wasn’t just surviving. I was thriving. And Alexander… he was noticing.